Meta

What I dare not speak in real life.

cold heart

She shud be able to enjoy it
Flow after retirement
Ease from lacking office
Less stress less tests
Knock down meds
Big heart be damned
Bio complicated interfere her
Enlarged aorta no kill her
Strong like bull and stubborn too

Give ease
Alms to mater
Madre malady
She deserves more than we give her

You try and make up for the years of horrid treatment. Sure there was such tears dampening my soggy shoulders, but amid the adolescence there was the selfish anger. Roiling teen cursing mum, curse god world Mississippi goddamn. Lacking heart for familiars and stressed her test she took it with wavering strides cause her heart was so big. Always felt bad, guilt, guiltlove, sick with love and now abstaining.

This shud be her time
Life owes her
Ppl owe her
We owe her
But she takes less n les
Stupid motherly love

Share this:

Like this:

I got the greediness of neediness and singular obsession.
Dirty depression got me hankering for the love of blessing.
Focus on the girl who brings the laughter.
Always with another the typical disaster.
Husbands and boyfriends with the goals and secure.
Me I’m losing love and so insecure.
Broken locks locked in, passed repair.
Empty nest, shallow people perforating the air.
Give em a chance open up and they just stare.
Too weird for the Jones’.
Too crazy for boys town.
Too wrapped up in the mental.
No more paramours now.
Fixated vexed maybe hexed for romances.
Black cards take place of Chances.
Monopoly run no room for partners.
Rentier class double down on steerage.
And I want the world but my hands closed fists.
Too angry for some but something’s amiss.
My hearts not dead but paralytic.
Tried to pump it and thump it to trickle some blood.
Leaky muscle loses life as Reason comes in.
Scientifically minded.
Analytical modeled.
Primed for bottle and addicted to want of desire.
But I’m a liar I aspire to be father, brother, lover.
I can give you my life and give you my honour.
But sadly I can’t give what you covet.
There’s no strings on me and no hand in the puppet.
I’m just a hollow man who asks you to love it.

Like this:

I’m just really glad I’m not as argumentative, cynical, and politically annoying as I once was. People do change, we gather moss and wisdom at meandering intervals, swishing and shilly shallying towards understanding. Not to think I’m so right, not to correct the one in front, nary a care and never to hurt. Is going off on someone going to change much? Are they going to learn anything from that experience other than you are a tool? You just have to be diplomatic to achieve anything, we are rams butting heads and set in our ways and opinions. But I prefer to not dogmatically follow my own perceptions, to welcome the perspective of others and amalgamate them into the more realistic preview of the follies of life and the crumbly world I so far inhabit. May be I’ll find a better planet with chocolate robots to do my bidding and I may sleep and perchance dream as much as I wish.

Reality is jarring. Tumultuous, errant, lightning bolts rampaging down scared noggins in charged plains. Ethereal surreal modus rising tide. Shakes, quakes, waves and bakes, basking in the sun and wipeouts come out to ruin the hour. Everyone feels it, everyone has the big bad on their shoulders and problems to contend with. This I forget sometimes for the transcribed judgmental essence in me that peers out in low esteem moments. I want to love but bitter is the heavy heart that resides within these walls. Black like my coffee I fear getting too cold and stagnant in hate-filled menageries; pretty putrid bouquets wafting through the hollow dream sequence of this coma. Self-inflicted wicked stabs and lunges in the so called soul that keeps taking hits. I am stronger than those hits though, my HP is high after all the experience. Can I survive with my charisma points intact? Time will tell and I’ll tell time. I’ll make myself better, faster, stronger, up into the echelons of gargantuan power. I’m a nice jerk, accept self, accept others. Accept.